Chapter 7 THE LIE I CHOSE II
Jax put the phone away. His expression turned serious. "You're a ghost fixer,” he said quietly. “You’re a freelancer people call when they have problems that the police can't solve and the big Mafia families won't touch. We handle high-risk extractions and recover stolen information. We collect debts from people who think they are untouchable."
He leaned in closer. "And you... you’re also a fighter. One of the best in the underground circuit. That’s how you made most of the money to keep us afloat. You are fast, you are mean, and you never quit."
I was wowed. Elena Cruz Maddox had never even thrown a punch. Sienna was a warrior and a protector.
I felt a surge of respect for the woman whose body I was wearing.
Then my stomach rolled as anxiety took over. This lie I had to keep up was huge.
I wouldn’t just be acting; I was assuming a legacy of violence and skill.
"That is why you were so tired," I muttered under my breath. "No wonder."
"What?" Jax asked.
I blinked, realizing I had spoken out loud. "Nothing. I just... it sounds like a lot of work. Did we ever work for the big people? You know, the ones at the top? Like the ones on the Council?"
Jax’s eyes narrowed, looking at me with a sudden, sharp suspicion. How do you know about the Council, Si?"
I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. My heart hammered against my ribs. "What do you mean?"
"You said you have amnesia," Jax said, his voice lower now. "You said you don't remember your past or your identity. But you just mentioned the Mafia Council. Most people on the street don't even know they exist. How do you remember them?"
I forced myself not to look away. I had to cover the slip. I let my face crumble into a look of confusion. I shook my head and gripped the sheets.
"I... I don't know," I stammered. I made my voice sound breathless. "The word just popped into my head. I don't know why. It felt... heavy. Like a dark cloud. Did I say something wrong?"
Jax watched me for a long time. I didn't blink. I let a tear escape and roll down my cheek. Finally, he exhaled and slumped back in his chair.
"No," he said softly. "You didn't say anything wrong. The doctor said flashes might come back. Maybe that is one of them. It’s actually a good sign. It means your memory is trying to fight its way through."
I let out a shaky breath. "So, did we? Work for them?"
"No," Jax said. "We are way too low on the food chain to ever be in the same room as the Council members. We are small fish, Si. We stay in the shadows and handle the crumbs they leave behind.” He sighed, sounding disgusted. “The only time we are ever near them is when they show up to watch the underground matches. They like to bet on the blood. But they don't look at people like us as humans. To them, we are just entertainment."
A sense of relief washed over me. I was safe. Their world was entirely separate from Kanan's world. Kanan was a king now. He wouldn't be looking for a street fixer in a gritty neighborhood.
But then a new thought followed. I was too low for what I planned to do.
According to them, it’s separate. an entirely different world.
I sank back against the pillows, pretending to be exhausted, but inside, my mind was racing.
My new identity and body was strong, skilled, and feared in its own circle.
But if I ever want to stand in the same room as Kanan again, and not as a victim but as a threat, I have to climb up the ladder.
Fast.
Jax suddenly squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I looked at our clasped hands in surprise, and he quickly pulled back his hand, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"Don't stress yourself.” He muttered, avoiding my eyes. “We’ll figure this out together. One step at a time.”
I nodded. One step at a time…
He thought I had been thinking about recovery.
He had no idea it’s about war.
If I wanted to ruin Kanan Maddox, I couldn't stay in the shadows forever. I had to rise. I had to become someone the Council noticed.
To become someone Kanan would be forced to look at.